


Five Things John Does When Rodney Dies

by lunabee34 (Lorraine)



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Drabble Sequence, Grief/Mourning, Loss, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-23
Updated: 2014-03-23
Packaged: 2018-01-16 18:08:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1357012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lorraine/pseuds/lunabee34
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pretty much what it says on the tin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Things John Does When Rodney Dies

1  
He resigns his commission immediately.

They ask him to stay, more desperately and for longer than he would have imagined back before he stepped through the Gate that first time. Teyla and Ronon, Zelenka and Caldwell, they all ask. He has the gene; the natives trust him, they say. Not Elizabeth. She knows she has no chance in hell of convincing him. She was there when John threw Rodney over a balcony and when Rodney was drowning at the bottom of the sea and Rodney stepped in front of a gun for her once and she knows. Elizabeth doesn’t ask.

 

2   
He argues with Lorne.

“I can and I will!”

“Sir, I know you’re grieving, but this expedition needs you. These people look to you . . .”

“I loved him,” John interrupts. “I loved him and I could never tell him because of this.” He points to his rank insignia. “Because of who it made me.” John clenches his jaw and refuses to look at the floor.

Lorne meets his gaze—eyes steady and sad, so sad. “Do you really think he didn’t know?” he says. “The rest of us did.”

John doesn’t know what to say to that at all.

 

3   
He keeps his feet on the ground.

He drives from Cheyenne Mountain to the beach and sits with his feet outstretched into the cold surf. He could have flown, but John can’t stand the thought of being in the air while Rodney’s under the ground. The sky has always been a refuge—the clean and bright canvas of Antarctica, the airless and brilliant expanse of space. Now all John feels is its emptiness, its blank sterility, its overwhelming and crushing possibility. He once valued flying for its solitude but he’s flown too long with a copilot to feel that anymore.

 

4   
He joins MENSA.

John’s done playing stupid. He has to admit that engendering underestimation is a useful strategy and one that’s served him well so far, but Rodney hated it. He couldn’t understand why anyone would want to hide his intelligence and the longer John spent in Rodney’s company, the less he understood it himself. He remembers the way it felt when he revealed himself to Rodney, when Rodney’s surprise and pleasure showed in his eyes, in the quick gestures of his hands. John’s lied for so long and about so many things and he won’t lie about this anymore.

 

5   
He comes back home.

Atlantis lights up around him like Friday night at the stadium. It’s been a few months and Teyla’s hair is longer but she kicks his ass with those sticks the same as ever. Elizabeth hugs him every day for a week straight and Ronon is his silent shadow. Rodney is everywhere: _Kavanagh sucks!_ written in his handwriting on a whiteboard in Zelenka’s lab; orange-less fruit salad in the mess; delicate circuitry and crystals—the very bones of Atlantis; but mostly the sweet, sweet spiral of the jumper as John eases her nose up toward the stars.


End file.
